The Time of Potts
by Mister27
Summary: Here's a take on what the castle situation was like before the Adam was subdued by the Enchantress. No OCs, only first names for characters that weren't given any. You'll find out who they are in time...
1. The Desolation of the Forest

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Beauty and the Beast story, characters, or anything like that.**

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The castle shook and rumbled as volts of energy crashed down upon it. Dust billowed from the trembling ceiling. A section of it crashed to the ground, right next to Clara, very nearly missing her foot as she ran.

"Come along dear," she urged her son, beckoning swiftly with her hand, "We'll be safe in the kitchen." A red light flashed outside, bathing her child's innocent face in an eerie glow. He glanced out the window into the night sky. It was flashing and pulsing with magical swells. He watched as one magician streaked upwards in the sky, twirling and spinning. Another followed, dodging the trails of power the first left in his wake. As the first broke through a dark cloud, the other caught up. The first encased himself in a sphere of emerald light just as the second blasted golden fire at him. Realizing the fruitlessness, the second decided on another approach.

He blasted himself at the green one with an explosion from his feet. The two hurtled downward towards the green forest. They crashed into the trees and earth-causing a large explosion, catching the trees on fire. The smoke swirled and grabbed at the night sky, blending with the dark cloud. It crackled and sparked with lighting. Several moments passed, and the cloud fired a bolt of lightning down to where the wizards were dueling. As it struck the ground, Chevell saw it's sharp form melt into a swoop. The entire bolt was pulled down, absorbed by one of the magicians. The boy couldn't tell who it was, the fire and smoke and distance obscured his vision, but he saw the area they were fighting light up. A moment of stillness from both passed.

A massive explosion thundered from the area. A fiery wave rippled across the burning forest. It slammed into the magical barriers of the castle, fizzling out as it traveled up the flickering shield. The trees and rivers and rocks lit up with a ghostly fire. They turned black and gnarled. The rivers froze and the rocks split, becoming jagged and black. The golden magician who had used fire flew from the corrupted forest, leaving only the yellow glow of the twisted animals' eyes behind.

The young boy knew of that hateful magician.

"Come Chevell, don't worry about them now, we must get to the kitchen!" Clara exclaimed. She fixed her hat, it's faded purple color indicated that she was a kitchen hand. As did the rest of her attire, she wore a violet dress with a white apron tied around her waist. She winced as another rumble shook the castle. She grabbed her blonde son's hand. They dashed through the stone hallway, their footsteps' echos were (thankfully) drowned out by the sounds of thunder and rumbling coming from all around the castle. Up ahead, she saw the door they were looking for. They had to go through it to reach the main castle entrance. From there they would go through the library, then the Great Hall, until they reached the safety of the kitchen. Skidding to a halt, she stooped down to help her son keep his balance.

"Why are they fighting, momma?" he asked, looking up at her with big, dark eyes. She paused, looking at him caringly. She knelt down, straightening her apron.

"Because the... Prince has done many wrong things, and now the good people have come to stop him," she replied softly. A low rumble shook the ceiling overhead, showering them with dust.

"What did he do?" the little boy asked, his golden hair now flecked with white.

"He..." she hesitated. He was so young, he didn't need even more sadness than he already had, "he took away a lot of... a lot of good people."

"Like who, momma?" the little boy asked. She looked at him for a long while, while immense sadness welled up in her heart. A rumble from above brought her back from the past. She stood and grasped his little hand in her own.

"It's time to go," she said. She turned and slammed the door open, rushing through.

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**Here you go, it's my first fanfiction. By the way: Clara is not the same Clara from Doctor Who, it's just the name I chose for her. Her character in the movie wasn't given a first name, neither was Chevell.**

**If reviews were chocolate, I'd ask for some chocolate.**


	2. Babette's Wrath

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Beauty and the Beast story, characters, or anything like that.**

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In one swift movement she scooped up Chevell and leaped over the bolt of red magic that undoubtedly came from the woman she hated most.

"Clara!" came the oily shout. "Leaving so soon?!"

Clara stopped in her tracks and slowly spun to face the hag. The woman returned her stare with a smug smile and sinister eyes.

"You wouldn't want the Master to find out you're abandoning his favorite servant, now would you?" the black-robed sorceress asked, her voice dripping with evil.

"Spare me of your empty threats this one time Babette. I have no interest in serving your Master today," replied Clara.

"Empty threats you say? I think we both know that I always come through on my threats," she said, eyeing the little boy, a malicious glint in her eyes, "Don't think I don't know where he came from," she said, indicating Chevell.

"I don't know what you're talking about." came Clara's reply, anger and fear growing inside her.

Babette laughed, her high pitched cackling scratching at Clara's ears, "Who do you think told the Master about him? How do you think he knew to kill-"

"NO!" cried Clara. She whipped her hand forward. A boiling torrent of water flowed from her palm, surging toward the woman. Babbete's eyes widened in surprise and she spun-throwing her hands up. A red ball of light appeared around her, covering her from the searing heat. Clara pushed a large swell of water at her and dashed for the door, her apron flapping behind her. She crashed through the door. Wasting no time, she turned swiftly and thrust her hand at the door, now glowing violet, becoming stronger. Not bothering to see if her protection had worked she ran into a room and slammed the door. Sliding down the wall, she came to rest at the floor, breathing out deeply.

"That was close, wasn't it Chevell?" she asked her son, smiling slightly.

"Yeah momma. You sure showed her!" he reached up and patted her shoulder, "Good job."

Chuckling slightly, Clara replied, "Thank you Chev." Looking at his face, her smile turned into a look of concern. "Uh-oh, it looks like you've got a little scratch on your head," she said, wiping the tiny cut with her apron. "Are you going to be alright?"

"Yeah!" he replied, puffing his tiny chest out.

She looked at him tenderly. If only she could keep him in this place, this place of peace. Not the room, the walls would be broken easily; too much like every other shelter she tried to make for him. She had been foolish to think that... to think that this place could possibly keep them safe. True, it was a huge castle full of powerful magicians, but it only shone pristinely on the outside. On the inside it was dark, evil and cruel. She wished that she could have stayed with Garon, he would have kept her and Chevell safe. He was strong, smart, and so very wise.

But that was in the past, and now the Spectrans were here to save them. She had to get Chevell to safety, she had to bring him up. He reminded her so much of Garon: his golden hair, his love of people, his eyes. Those same eyes that were looking up at her curiously, expecting her to take care of him, because she was his mother, and she was never, ever, going to let him get hurt.

Clara slowly stood up. She brushed off her apron, straightened her purple hat, and took her son's hand into her own. She looked into his dark, sparkling eyes.

"Let's go Chev; it's time to go to the library." she said.

"Are you going to read me a story?" he asked.

"Not this time, but I promise I'll tell you one soon enough." she replied, smiling inwardly at his innocence. She pushed the door open, slowly peering into the corridor.

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**Yes, the chapters are short. I'll be fixing that.**

**1 review = 1 virtual high five**


	3. Love Knows No Time

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Beauty and the Beast story, characters, or anything like that.**

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Seeing that the coast was clear, she dashed out into it, heading for the library. It was about 100 meters away; luckily, this part wasn't damaged yet.

As if on cue, Henri and a sorceress burst through the stained glass windows.

"Cogsworth! Why are you fighting me!?" the sorceress yelled, her voice booming down the hallway.

"Madam, I'm afraid I can't let you fight the Forces!" he replied, "Do you not see that you are the one doing evil? The Master has twisted your good mind! He promises you fame and fortune, but his claims are empty!"

"How dare you! I am famous!" she cried, "I am the star of the stage! Rulers around the world have traveled thousands of miles to hear me sing!" At this she proved her skill by screeching the highest note she could. Ripples of force burst from her mouth, knocking Henri back, shifting Clara back a few feet as well. "And if you don't believe him, I'll fight you too! I'll fight everyone for him! Those Spectrans aren't trying to help, they just want his power!" She bellowed again, knocking him into the wall. He slammed into it with a crack, crumpling to the ground.

It was then that she saw Clara and Chevell, "Clara! Come help me finish him!" she cried, her glittering red robe whipping wildly in the wind.

"No, I'm not going to let you do this to him, Bouche. Can't you remember? Has the Prince tainted your mind so much that you don't remember all the good in Henri? Can't you remember how you... felt about him?" she asked. She gathered Chevell behind her protectively, slowly backing away.

For a moment Madame de la Grande Bouche gazed at the hurt sorcerer. The wild look in her eyes only intensified, as she shook off the wondering image her face had worn. Everything that happened next occurred within a few seconds. A few seconds that felt like hours.

First she began to move towards him; inside her throat, a quiet, deadly humming noise could be heard. She was preparing to shriek one of her magical shrieks. As she neared Henri, he shifted ever so slightly. Something rustled through his robes, emerging with a reflective flash and sliding to the ground. He moved his hand towards it feebly (he was in a lot of pain). The Madame was now humming louder, her insane gaze boring into his eyes. He was not looking back though, his face was contorted with intense concentration as his hand grasped the object. She opened her mouth at this, and began to yell into his face when he flipped his wrist and held up the object. Bouche halted, suddenly. The object Henri held was a mirror; a lovely, white mirror.

You see, Henri had given this to the Madame a while back, before anyone knew of the Prince's evil. Six years ago, Clara had arrived at the castle. She had been cold and harsh, unwilling to trust. But Madame de la Grande Bouche had welcomed her in warmly. Over the first year, Madame de la Grande Bouche had gained her trust and given her reason to be cheerful again. Clara quickly discovered that she was not the only person the Madame was being kind to. Henri and Bouche had become increasingly close as the years went on. Two months ago there was a very special ball. Henri had finally worked up the courage at this ball to ask her to dance. They twirled together all night, neither dancing with anyone else. He had presented her with a gift then. He had given her the white mirror. Afterwards Clara had learned from the Madame that Henri had enchanted it to make her reflection look beautiful. It had been a symbol of their love.

Yet, this made the Prince angry. He had brought Madame de la Grande Bouche to the castle in order to marry her. He thought her very beautiful. When he found out that she had interest in another, he began to enchant her. Every day she became more and more distant from Henri. Recently she had ceased talking with him altogether. Henri was devastated. But before the Prince could marry Bouche, the Splendorans had come and revealed his true, despicable nature. The rest is history.

The Madame knelt down, her red robe piling up around her like a big, beautiful flower. She swept her hand over her head slowly and removed her (Clara thought, ridiculous) wig, letting her long sandy hair spill out. She looked at Henri's battered form with a confused sort of face. She moved her hand, very slowly, towards his. After a second of hesitation, she grasped it. At that moment she changed. Her eyes lost the wild look; color surged back into her face, and her red robe turned golden.

"Oh, Henri, I'm so sorry," she grasped him into an embrace, tears welling up in her eyes, "I - I didn't realize wh - what I was d - doing! Oh Henri, oh I'm so s - s - sorry!" she said shakily. He leaned forward, returning her hug.

"Oh my dear, my dear, I forgive you. It wasn't your fault; the Prince enchanted you. Now you are free, and might I say," he held her by the shoulders at arm's length, looking at her lovingly, "You are truly beautiful."

"Oh Henri," she sobbed out, smiling. He smiled back and stood, bringing her up with him.

"Now you of radiant beauty, let us go assist our friends and take down this Prince once and for all, shall we?" he asked looking deeply into her eyes.

She looked back, the wind whipping her hair."Let's take him down." she said, her face serious (and a little murderous). She looked at Henri, and he at her. She slowly took the mirror from his hand. Looking at Clara, "But before we go - I don't need this anymore," she said smiling, "Take it. You deserve something good in your life, anyway, I don't need it's enchantments to make me look beautiful... I have something better," she handed it to Clara and smiled lovingly at Henri.

"Enchantments?" said Henri questionly, "I never put any enchantments on it. Everything you saw there was exactly as it looked."

At this the Madame reached up and kissed him on the face. Chevell covered his eyes.

When they were done, a wildly glad Henri turned to Clara. "Ahem, I say, is there anything else you need help with before we go?"

"Yes actually," Clara replied, looking to Cogsworth, "Can you get us to the library a little faster? We need to get to safety and-" she started.

"Say no more, my dear," Henri replied, smiling and holding up his hand. He reached into his coat, pulling out a golden, shimmering pocket watch. He twisted one of the many knobs on it and pointed the face at Clara and Chevell. It covered them in a golden light and everything around them turned slower. Henri tapped his watch slowly, showing Clara that they had five minutes to use their speed, she nodded. He and Bouche smiled and turned. As one they blasted out of the hole in the, wall back to join the slow fray.

"Let's go Chev, can you run a little more?" asked Clara, bending down to the little boy's level.

"Yeah momma, but momma...?" he started.

"Yes?"

"Why do we have to hide? You can fight good!" he said, smiling encouragingly at her.

"Oh Chev, thank you, but that's not how I use my power. You see, my kind of power is used to help others, not hurt them. If I tried to fight, I'd be no good," she said sadly.

"But momma, you did the - the..." he made a crude imitation of Clara shooting water at Babette, adding sound effects, "PSHHHHHPHHPHHPLOOSHH!"

"Oh, I'm glad you though that was good Chev, but other people can do even better than me," she said, smiling a little at his noise.

"Ok momma," he said. "Can we go to the library now?" he asked excitedly.

"Oh yes, let's go," she exclaimed, scooping him up.

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**I'm pretty sure this one is longer. Eh, I can't be bothered enough to look up the word count.**

**I've recently been diagnosed with something, and it's kind of been hard on me.**

**You see, I have something called Critique-Deprivation-Syndrome. It's a disease that has been affecting bloggers and fanfiction writers for years and years now, doctors have only just found the cure. For someone who has this disease, a certain amount of reinforcement is required from other people. It's all very complicated, but basically, if I don't get reviews, then I am sad.**

**:)**


	4. The Darkness of Fire's Light

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Beauty and the Beast story, characters, or anything like that.**

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As they sped down the hall, she noticed a glowing light out the windows to her right. Not taking time to look, she burst through the door of the library. She paused with a sharp intake of breath. The sight of the library always astounded her. It was a massive room decorated with the multicolored paint of books. Books upon books upon books. There were staircases leading higher to the ceiling and columns holding up the roof that were made out of bookshelves. She would have stayed looking longer if Chev hadn't pulled on her apron. Regathering herself, she hurried across the room, her magically enhanced speed changing the books into blurs. But as she neared the entrance to the Great Hall, she started to slow and slow. She slowed until she was fifty feet from the doors. Then their speed was normal again. She neared the door, her breathing increased.

Forty feet.

Was the room getting brighter?

Thirty feet.

It seemed very hot for a cold winter night.

Twenty feet.

It was definitely brighter.

Ten feet.

At that moment a fiery ball of light crashed into the floor in front of her. She instantly summoned a bubble of water to protect her and her son from the wave of flame. As the smoke and fire lessened and altogether disappeared, she saw a familiar silhouette. He strode from the blackened carpet.

"Ah, Clara, I'm so glad that I finally... found you," he said, his voice thick with malice.

"Don't even start with me Lumiere. How could you do that?" she asked, her own fire sparking in her eyes.

"Do what?" he asked unctuously.

"You burned the forest and destroyed a Splendoran! Now the trees and rivers and animals are corrupted because of you!" she cried, taking a step towards him.

He scoffed, "That poor excuse for a magician? His defeat only proved his weakness. I only weed out the weak."

"And the forest?" Clara asked accusingly, stepping to the right.

He moved to block her entrance into the Great Hall, "A casualty in the war of the strong," he replied. "Now it is all the better, because now it has power."

"How far the mighty have fallen," Clara snarled.

"Well excuse me Lady Potts," he said sarcastically, faux bowing to her, "I should have known that a serving woman would have such a high command of what is mighty and what is not. You are weak," he spat.

"You think I don't have the strength to pass you?" she asked.

"Don't make me laugh!" he replied, smiling his sinister smile.

"If you're too scared, I suppose that is understandable," she replied, "Considering the circumstances."

"The circumstances?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes."

"Please, I am a fire specialist of the highest rank. I have read more books on magic than you've made cups of tea. I've studied for eight years at the Obcura Wizard School, earning my Merlinate in destruction. I have defeated over fifty other magicians. I created three new Casts of Power. I meditated straight through for a month, and I memorized the entire language of the Ancients. You are..." he paused, looking her up and down, "a woman. A woman with a child that I could snuff out as easily as I could blow out the flame of a common candle."

"All true," she replied, "But you forget one thing."

"What is that?" he scoffed.

"I'm a mother. And you just threatened my child."

His eyes flew open in terror as she thrust her arm forward. He tried to raise a shield of fire, but instead hundreds of gallons of cold water crashed down on him. Three tendrils of water surged him against the wall, completely submerging him. She threw him against the doors and tossed him across the room. Before he could stand she encased him in a bubble of water and swirled it into a massive whirlpool, launching him into the ceiling. Three times she slammed him back down onto the floor until he stopped moving, and blacked out. She raised an eyebrow,

"Meditated for a month? I carried a child for nine!" At that she turned and strode through the doors into the Great Hall.

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**Review if you please.**


	5. The Prince's Victory

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, I don't own the plot, I don't own anything from Disney's Beauty and the Beast.**

**Madame de la Grand Bouche is the wardrobe. That's her name from the musical, I'm actually not sure what her name in the movie is. **

**Clara's identity will be revealed soon.**

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Clara stepped onto the golden tiles of the Great hall. THe large oval room was lit brightly by the intricate chandelier dangling from the ceiling. Sturdy pillars lined the wall. Differently colored flashes of light occasionally illuminated the room through the tall windows. This was where the Prince held his banquets and balls. This was where Henri and Madame de la Grande Bouche had first danced. And this was where the Prince had first shown his evil.

The scene outside was dire: sorcerers and sorceresses of both sides were hurling all their power at one another. The ground trembled and the forest swayed, its trees burning and its animals running. The Splendorans (those who upheld the good magic) were not doing well. Every minute a new light would be snuffed out, drowned, crushed, or burned. And those loyal to Adam were only shining brighter. Such power was too much for the world, it gave people strength that could move mountains, destroy countries, and drain seas. The world needed to change.

She paused for a moment, then pushed the thought to the back of her mind, there was no time to try to change it. She had to protect her child. As she hurried across the vast expanse of hte hall, the back of her neck started to prickle. She glanced at the oak doors, expecting Lumiere to burst through and engulf her child in flame. But nothing came. Something was wrong, she never got that feeling unless disaster was coming. Like when she was at home that bleak night in the winter.

She had just placed Chevell (he was only two years old) in his blankets when a knock came at the door. After kissing the boy, she hurried across the house, wondering why someone would come on this stormy night. Opening the door slowly, her look of concern had only deepened. A representative from the Splendorans was on her porch.

He had delivered the sad news that night. He had told her that Garon had gone into battle with one of the Obscuran (those of evil magic) generals: Maleficent. They had battled furiously but she had overpowered them.

No survivors were found.

She snapped back into reality, "Yes Chev?" She looked at worried face. Why was it worried?

He only pointed in response. He looked over her shoulder at the massive windows showing the outside of the castle. His finger was shaking.

She turned her head quickly, but it seemed like she had the opposite of whatever Henri gave her. She was in slow motion, and the world around her was moving at the speed of sound. Her dark brown hair whipped back as she spun her head, and her eyes moved agonizingly slowly to the windows. As they made contact with the glass, it shattered. It shattered because two radiantly sparkling forms had crashed through them. Clara rose her arm and summoned a wall of water to protect Chevell and herself. A few shards of glass made contact with her arm and foot though, and she fell to the ground, still clutching Chevell.

The two shining forms slowly extinguished their light. The green light turned to an old woman in a forest-colored cloak. The second was none other than the Prince, he wore his golden crown and red cape. A rich, blue tunic adorned his body and metal greaves protected his legs. The two began to argue fiercely.

"Yield to me Adam!" the old woman cried, throwing her hand back, "You're reign of terror has gone on long enough! None more need to die at your wicked hand!"

"Ha!" he scoffed in reply, "By what means would you have me change my mind old woman? You have barely a glimmer of power compared to my might!"

"Do not be deceived by my appearance! Things are not always what they seem," as if to illustrate her meaning, she drew a simple rose out of the folds of her cloak, "I would that you take my flower, with it you will be able to cast off the dark shade the evil one has placed on your eyes! Then you can return to the good ruler you once were, and all can evil can be repaid!"

"A flower?" he replied, "Please old one! I have fended off your attacks for years, tonight has been no different. And look at you, you're a shuddering husk of the woman you used to be. In any case, how could a plant have any power?" he spat, "You know as well as I that plants cannot contain magic for long, their form breaks away easily in it's path. No, you want only to distract me and take my kingdom for yourself! Well, this is all I have to say to you, woman!"

With those words he thrust his arms at her, his red cape billowing behind him. A beam of crimson light burst from his palms and slammed into the woman. She flew back against the wall, a crack breaking in it's surface. She lay in a pile at the floor. Her cloak was smoking and the flower fell from her limp hand. The Prince sneered at her disapprovingly and turned to jump into the fray again. His foe was vanquished.

Now the world was his.

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**There's still more to come.**

**Review at your pleasure, especially if you have any helpful insight, I want the story to be the best it can be.**


	6. The Time of Potts

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Beauty and the Beast characters, plots, or anything like that. **

**At one point in this chapter I've found some music to go with the scene. When you see the word "Now" in bold, go to ****/watch?v=9kSf8w28Fs4,**** press play, and read on. You might need a computer so that you can have this window and the music window open and going at the same time.**

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At this point Clara breathed in again. She processed what she had just seen. The Prince, an arrogant brat of a man had just struck down a helpless old woman because she offered him no power. And now he is leaving her here to die without even giving her a chance. Clara had had enough! There was enough unfairness in her world. The death of Garon, the evil of Babette, the ruthlessness of Lumiere. None of it was good! None of it was meant for this world. This beautiful world full of trees and flowers and sun and light. And her son. She would not let this man take away all the good that Chevell could live in in the future. In the present. So she stepped forward.

"Stop!" she demanded, setting Chevell down.

The Prince halted suddenly, his cape whipping with the wind. He turned slowly, horribly slowly to face Clara, "What?"

Clara trembled slightly, she shook the shivers off and stood a lightle straighter. Her jaw twitching, "You heard me."

The Prince looked her up and down, a sneer growing on his horribly perfect face. He took a step forward, his metal greaves scraping the floor.

"Who are you?" he snarled. The sky outside glowed red as an explosion rocked the ground. Almost as if it was punctuating his evil.

"Clara," she said shakily, her eyes narrowed nonetheless, "Clara Potts."

At this the Obscuran's smile failed. Just for a moment. Then he regained his sneering look and spat, "That is of no consequence. Why do you think that you could possibly stop me? Have you some great power? Are you a wielder of fire? Of earth? What could you possibly do to harm me?! I who have toppled mountains and drained seas! I who have sent the Splendorans to their knees countless times!? I who have broken the very nature of balance! I am Adam! I am the beginning of the End!" His hand was ablaze with blue swirls of energy, flickering and fluctuating with his every word.

She stared at him and, with an angry defiance, said, "I," her voice was soft, "I am one who helps."

"And what good will that do you now?" he growled fiendishly.

**Now.**

Clara turned to face the old woman. She inhaled. She closed her eyes. Inside her she looked deeply. She found an abundance of light.

"What are you doing!?" the Prince demanded.

She reached into the light. It was warm, it was good. It was like all the days of summer, and all the days with Garon. It was strong. It was power. And the power was in abundance. But it was not unlimited. In the power there was an end. It was like a fire that burned fuel, and in order to take the fire, one had to grasp a coal. It took the light out of her, and gave it to someone else. Someone who needed power. And the power did not come back, and Clara was weaker when she lost it.

So she began to work with the power, swirling it and forming it. Drawing it from her reserve. Moving it slowly throughout her into the open space. It came slowly, as some help must. For if one does not work to help, one does not help much at all. And much help was needed.

"What are you doing!?" came the shout from the Prince.

Clara bent down ever so slightly, and she began to glow, the light was coming out of her. It swirled around her shoulders and head, around her body and legs. It formed a spiral in front of her, slowly spinning like a galaxy. The tendrils of stardust condensed slowly, and the formed into a ball of light before her. Wind rushed around her and her apron whipped with it. Chevell held to her hand.

She opened her eyes and a light glowed from within, bathing the room in violet. The light from outside was not as bright as this. No, because this was a different power. This was not of strength or might. This was not of destruction, this was a power of helping. This was a power of healing. And restoring.

She took a step. Her movements were not quick. They didn't need to be.

"What are you DOING!?" Adam cried, for he had never sacrificed anything for anyone.

She took another step, her arm began to raise.

"STOP!" the Prince screamed.

She took another step. And the power moved down her arm, twisting around until it rested in her palm.

She took another step. The light swelled and fluctuated now, it was eager to go. At that moment it burst from Clara's hand, and it struck the old woman.

The old woman began to rise. Violet light around her turned to gold sparks of power. Her crumpled form floated upward. Her old eyes slowly opened. And something happened.

Her form started to change, she began to become something new. Something younger. The wrinkles of her face changed to smooth skin. The gray in her hair faded to gold. Her dark green cloak changed to a bright green gown. A crown appeared on her head and a wand in her hand. She bent inward. Then she threw her arms open.

A wave of light flew from her, knocking the Prince back against the wall. It cracked and crumbled there, knocking a pillar down. The Enchantress moved slowly towards the Prince, her wand spouting light and sparks.

"Prince Adam of the Obscura sorcerers. You have taken this too far," her voice was deeper, but breathtakingly beautiful.

"Now the time of your darkness," she flashed, "is over."

"You-" he tried.

"I set a curse upon you, Prince of evil. You shall lose the physical appearance of goodness. You shall become what you truly are on the outside. You shall become a beast. You shall stay that way," she summoned the rose to her hand, and tapped it with her wand. A golden light surged into it, causing it to glow with a pink light, "until all the petals of this flower drop."

"You shall never leave this castle. The only way for you to see into the world outside," she looked about the room, her elegant gaze rested on the mirror at Clara's side. With her hand she summoned the mirror, and it flew into her palm, "Is with this mirror. It two glowed with the green of her magic, and sparks dropped from it.

"Say the thing you wish to see, and it will be shown to you," both of these things drifted out of her hand and came to rest at the crippled Prince's feet.

She came to rest at the ground and looked to Clara, "Come here, my friend."

Clara grabbed Chevell's little hand and moved towards the Enchantress. Then she halted, unsure of whether or not the woman she helped could really be trusted. She had just condemned the Prince to eternity in the castle, something that showed hints of possible... cruelty.

"Do not be afraid, I wish only to speak with you," the woman said, kindness crossing over her narrow face. Clara continued on, but readied herself, she would not lose Chevell.

"I wish to thank you for your help," the woman spoke solemnly, but not harshly, "Without your power, I would be gone, dead. And for that I owe you my life."

Clara had no words, she only muttered, "You're welcome."

The Enchantress smiled, but just for a moment, her smile turned to a sad seriousness, "Now I must tell you something," She looked at the Prince.

"He will try to send his servants out into the world of goodness. For he is clever. There are few ways to stop this from happening, and the only one that I can choose," she looked back to Clara, sadness in her eyes, "Is death for them all. So leave, and go quickly, else you may die as well."

Clara thought. There were truly many in the castle who deserved to die, and she would not be sorry in the least to see them go. She doubted she would feel anything. And then she could know she was safe with Chevell. Safe from the evil that the servants of the Prince wished to cause. That would be so easy.

But that was not what Garon would have wanted. He always looked for the good in people, he always gave them second chances. Because that is what they needed. Everyone fails in life. Everyone turns to evil at some point. Everyone needs someone to understand and someone to love. And if someone is dead, they cannot love anymore. They cannot change. So Clara looked to the Enchantress.

"No."

The woman tilted her head slowly, "What," she asked, "would you have me do?"

Clara thought furiously. She thought about Henri and his magic of time, she thought about Lumiere and his power of fire, she thought of the Beast and his power of evil. The woman, she had revealed that evil and brought it to the surface, not letting him hide anything. What if...

"Do what you did with the Prince," Clara said, the idea forming in her head, "And change them. Change them into something, an object, that shows who they are. Give them no way to conceal their true nature, so that they can have a second chance. And..." she looked at Chevell. She thought of life with him outside. And she thought of the people that would suffer as objects for the rest of their lives. They would be like that forever, unless someone helped them. Unless someone helped them change...

"Let me stay here. And let my little boy stay here. And we will try to change them."

The woman smiled, "You truly are one who gives help, for there is no love greater than one who gives up the easy life for others. Because of this, the key to the castle's freedom will be through you."

"How?" Clara asked, Chevell moved closer to her.

"The only way for the Prince to go back to his old life, is for him to find someone to love him. And the one who will unlock that, she will be from you. Someone you thought you lost a long time ago."

Clara thought back, to a long time before Chevell. Back when she had first been with Garon. She had a... she gasped, "She's alive?! How!?"

The woman smiled again, "Things are not always as they seem." And she turned to the Prince, and she raised her wand.


End file.
